Roses For Stiles
by luvsbitca
Summary: The gang get a little defensive when Stiles receives an interesting delivery.


**Title –** Roses For Stiles  
 **Author –** Moonbeam  
 **Rating –** Teen  
 **Warnings –** Nothing  
 **Summary –** The gang get a little defensive when Stiles receives an interesting delivery.  
 **Disclaimer –** Don't own either universe – just Netflix, DVDs, and a highly suggestive brain.  
 **Author's Notes –** I've been trying to get all of my WIPs finished. But, while I'm doing it I keep having **ideas** which are rather distracting. So, I've made myself a little deal and I can write little fics for the ideas but nothing major and long. This is the first one. Maybe the last one. Depending on how everything goes.

 **Roses for Stiles**  
by Moonbeam

Stiles sang quietly to himself as he chopped the tomatoes. The rest of the pack were in the lounge room arguing about which movie they were going to watch. This was the first time they had all been in Beacon Hills since Christmas and they were finally over halfway through university and closer to coming home that they were to leaving. Stiles came back more than anyone else – not quite able to leave his dad alone for too long. But, it was different having everyone here this time. Stiles kept cutting all of the toppings they would need to make pizzas as the front door opened – his dad home from work. A few moments passed where Stiles allowed his mind to drift as he methodically sliced tomatoes.

"Stiles!"

Stiles froze and turned around to look at his dad who was standing in the kitchen doorway.

"What?"

"You need to get into the lounge room – there are three werewolves growling at a delivery box."

Stiles frowned, "why?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know – they're your werewolves go and sort them out. I'm going up to have a shower before I have to watch them eat Liam's weight in pizza."

Stiles nodded and washed the tomato juice off his fingers before he walked towards the lounge room. Derek was standing in the doorway growling at the blood red box. Stiles tried to step around him but the beta bodily tucked Stiles behind his back.

"What the hell is going on?" Stiles asked, trying to see around Derek.

"Death," Scott growled out.

"What?"

"The box smells like death," Derek said, his grip tight on Stiles' side.

"Derek!" Stiles said, firmly. "Let me see."

"It's addressed to you," Liam bit out around his fangs.

"I assumed as much," Stiles said, rolling his eyes as he resorted to something he very rarely tried. He dug his fingers into the soft flesh under Derek's ribs but the werewolf didn't flinch away and grimace like he normally.

"Derek."

"No."

"Just let me pass, it could be anything."

"It's death," Derek said again.

Stiles sighed. "Lydia, help me out here."

Lydia nodded and shuffled forward on the couch to pull out a card that was attached to the box.

"…I'm not going to attempt to butcher your first name," Lydia started.

"Przemysław," Derek muttered quietly and if Stiles had not been standing so close he wouldn't have caught it.

"What?" Stiles asked, confused.

Derek froze in front of him, his muscles tightening even more than they had been. "Lydia, finish reading."

"Fine," she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "It's not like you _interrupted_ me or anything. _Stiles, happy birthday, we will see you next week. M.A._ "

Stiles shoved past Derek and stumbled when the werewolf actually gave way in front of him. He fell forward, momentum pushing him towards the floor. Derek caught him and pulled him upright.

"Give me that," Stiles said, reaching out for the card. As soon as he saw the handwriting he couldn't resist laughing; no wonder the box smelled of death.

-)(-)(-

Derek felt his claws itching under the skin – begging to come out and tear into something. He looked at Stiles, aghast, the younger man was laughing. Someone had sent him a box that smelled of _death_ and the idiot was _laughing_.

Stiles slid onto the couch next to Lydia and gleefully opened the box. Derek saw red when he saw what was inside – someone had sent his…Stiles, their Stiles, a bouquet of two dozen headless roses.

"Stiles?" Lydia asked, frowning down into the delivery box. "Those are rose stems."

"I know, this is brilliant," Stiles said, gleefully, pulling the vase of stalks from within the box and placing them on the coffee table with a broad grin.

Derek heard a growl but he didn't realise it was him until Stiles looked at him shocked.

"Have you made weird friends at university we don't know about?" Lydia asked, frowning at the stalks in the blood red vase.

"Is there someone stalking you?" Kira asked.

Stiles shook his head, looking back at the greenery, running a finger down one of the stalks. "No, they're from my aunt."

Derek growled – the glass around him shuddering in the frame.

"Whoa, Derek, dude," Stiles said, looking at him surprised. "Calm down."

Derek watched Stiles walk over to him with that same expression he used when Derek was still thrumming from a fight.

"It's okay, you can put away the claws. My aunt is a little…odd. Well, she's actually my mother's aunt. Not that you could ever tell – I don't think she's aged since I was a kid. We don't see them much anymore. Mum used to take me to stay with them for a couple of weeks every summer but dad couldn't get away most of the time. When Mum got really sick, Dad and Aunty Tish had a disagreement about her care. We stopped talking to them. When I went off to university I got back in touch with them – they're the only family I have apart from Dad really. My aunt is odd and she likes cutting the heads off roses; so she sent me a bouquet for my birthday." Stiles smoothed his fingers through Derek's holding onto Derek's hands until the werewolf felt the worry seep out of him.

"You're sure?"

"I'm positive; I wouldn't lie to you about something like that. If I had a stalker, trust me, I would call my trusty werewolf pack immediately."

Derek nodded, breathing deeply, focussing on the smell of Stiles and trying to filter out the lingering smell of death.

"Why does it smell of death?" Liam asked.

Stiles licked his lips and his eyes flickered to Derek's ear – a clear sign he was going to try and lie.

"Stiles," Derek warned.

Stiles smiled. "I said they were weird. Aunty Tish, is kind of a…witch? Occultist? …umm, hard to describe but it probably smells of death because she kind of deals with dead things."

Derek felt himself frowning.

"Like a mortician…it's kind of funny actually – her name _is_ Morticia. So, it's fitting, you know?"

Derek knew he couldn't look convinced because Stiles kept talking.

"Like how werewolves smell of werewolf and I smell of electricity when I use my 'spark'. That's all it is. I promise there is nothing bad about this; just my aunt wishing me a happy twenty-first."

Derek nodded.

Stiles smiled and pulled away, walking back over to the macabre bouquet. He flipped the card open and read the sharp red letters again. Stiles smiled as he read the card and then walked back over to Derek to show him – one finger covering his name at the top of the card. "See…"

"Why are you covering your name?" Derek asked, quietly.

Stiles smirked at him. "How'd you learn to pronounce it?"

Derek's cheeks flushed and he shrugged. "You're pack."

"So," Scott said, throwing an arm over Stiles' shoulders and breaking the moment. "Now, that we know there isn't a serial killer sending you headless flowers."

Stiles laughed, strangely, and then shook his head. "I never said she wasn't a serial killer."

Scott laughed deeply. "Anyway, dude, I'm hungry. Food!"

Stiles smiled. "I'll go and finish cutting everything up."

"It's okay," Derek said, "I'll finish."

"How about you just help instead?" Stiles suggested.

They walked into the kitchen and worked side by side.

"You've never told me about your aunt before," Derek prompted after several silent minutes.

Stiles smiled, softly, "Aunt Tish is pretty amazing – she reminds me of Lydia actually. She and Uncle Gomez have three kids. Wednesday is terrifying but she and I have always been pretty close. Even when I didn't talk to Aunty Tish much I still talked to Wednesday all the time."

"Wednesday?"

Stiles shrugged. "It's a family tradition apparently to give horrible names to their children. I'm determined to break this tradition – assuming I ever have kids of course."

"Do you want them?" Derek asked, almost afraid of what the human would say.

Stiles shrugged. "Yeah, but you never know. If I, well, I suppose it depends on whether I…"

"So," Sam said, walking into the kitchen. "What was all of the growling about?"

Stiles let out a thankful breath. "It was nothing. Aunty Tish sent me a bouquet and it smelt bad."

Sam smirked. "Headless roses?"

Stiles chuckled. "Yep."

"She is an interesting woman," Sam said casually.

"She's coming to the party," Stiles said, his voice oozing excitement.

"Great," Sam sounded resigned but not overly happy. "I look forward to seeing her again."

"You're a terrible liar," Stiles accused.

"Stiles…I think it will be good to see her again. I don't think I was wrong about what happened back then but I am sorry that I didn't work harder to keep you seeing them."

Stiles hugged his dad. "Do you want to make your pizza first? Before the werewolves descend."

Sam nodded and grabbed his pizza base.

"I'll send Lydia in as well," Derek said, turning away.

It wasn't until later, when they were all full and watching the Harry Potter series from scratch, because Derek had been stupid enough to say that he had never actually seen them, that the blue-eyed beta leaned over and told Stiles. "I'm looking forward to meeting your aunt."

Stiles turned and beamed at him.

 **The End**


End file.
